A Deal with God
by SophieSaulie
Summary: A mission goes horrifically wrong and Billy is presumed killed. Rick handles it badly.  Michael and Casey relive leaving Carson behind. NO CHARACTER DEATH
1. Chapter 1

**A Deal with God**

**Part One:**

Horror was on his face. Everything was moving in super slow motion as he watched while being pulled in a direction away from danger by his friends, but resisting with every muscle he could engage.

The mission had been a disaster.

He heard them yelling at him.

"COME ON!"

"There's nothing we can do!"

"He's gone!"

There was a touch of agonized resignation in the voice. Michael's voice. Sometimes, he was glad he wasn't a leader because for better and for worse, this time being for worse, it was all on Michael's shoulders to declare something done, over, or someone, beyond rescue, beyond hope. Dead.

But all he could hear himself say was, "NOOOOO! NO! He's not gone!"

He could have sworn he heard an echo reverberating back to him saying, "Save yourself!"

He was in stupefied shock. Though intellectually he couldn't imagine how anyone could survive being shot several times like he had seen, the ache in his chest wouldn't let him give up.

Still, when the bullets rattled the body of his friend, all he could see was gravity pulling it down, blood drenching the clothes he was wearing, his face contorted in pain and when he hit the ground, he looked dead, eyes, at first clenched in pain, then closed.

Rick saw Billy mouth "Go. Get out," before he closed his eyes, before he went silent, as if to give him permission to leave him, that he knew he was gone.

The yanking of his friends was getting more insistent, harder, his resistance waning. Billy dropped to his knees, slowly going down to the ground, first knees, then his hands, on all fours, his body heaving with pain and exhaustion. He looked over, his face laced with misery, both at leaving his friends behind, but from the agony of the wounds.

He then mouthed again, "It's all right. Need you all to get to safety. Go."

He could almost hear his voice saying the words.

He watched as Billy crumpled to the ground, unable to hold himself up anymore.

His body went still. His eyes fluttered closed. His breathing, if he was breathing at all, barely registered.

They then left him to die alone.

No. He was already dying before he hit the ground. No one, not even Billy, could survive getting shot so many times.

It was one of those harsh realities that they all had to accept and face. It didn't make it any easier, just inevitable.

He kept looking back over and over. Nothing changed. Billy didn't change. And they left him behind to die or to allow his body to just rot away in place. Either thought was reprehensible to him, but he knew like the others did, that there was no other option and that Billy would want them free and safe.

The truth didn't alleviate the guilt.

It just made it easier to leave.

**ChaosChaosChaos**

Billy was rudely brought out of fading consciousness by what he thought were hands lifting him, transporting him somewhere. The blinding pain was assaulting him and he just wanted it all to end.

"S…stop…d…don't…n…no use in saving me…let me go…" Billy tried to communicate in the hopes that whoever was carrying him would hear his pleas, take pity and release him.

No such luck.

"Hang on. You're with friends…we're going to try to save you," said a man's voice, a voice that contained a knowingness that Billy couldn't identify.

"Too…late for that," Billy gasped.

"You let me be the judge of that, son."

He felt them lay him on a comfortable bed. The momentary relief of being at rest almost brought unconsciousness, an unconsciousness that Billy begged for because it would at least be a better way to slip into death.

Instead, the moment passed and the next thing he felt was jarring and jostling, his clothes being pulled off unceremoniously and yet with frantic purpose. Chilly cold air made him shiver and the shaking brought more pain. He found himself breathing raggedly through it.

"Listen to me. You have been shot five times. I'm amazed you are still alive –"

"You and me both," Billy grunted in response, a shaky smile on his face.

He saw the face of a gentle, older man gazing back at him, returning his smile.

"A sense of humor during a time like this is admirable and might do you well."

Billy could only continue smiling until a wave of pain assaulted him.

"I am going to try to pull the bullets out, in the end, it will be better for you. I'm not a doctor, but I know what to do, been a medic in too many wars so I'll let you take that information as comfort or not. I'm going to be honest with you, this will not be easy and I can't guarantee you'll live, but I'm going to give it my best."

Billy observed the cool calm of the man and believed that if he had any chance at all, it would be in this man's hands. Some how the certainty of death he had felt earlier wasn't as definitive now.

"We don't have much in the way of medical supplies, which is my way of telling you, we don't have anesthesia. We do have liquor and in this case, it's better than nothing so I have a bottle –"

Billy saw it emerge in the man's hands and took it from him. He began to glug it down. He grimaced with the raw, harsh and almost antiseptic taste it had, but kept on drinking. Anything to numb the pain he knew was coming.

The old man smiled. He gathered instruments that were as sterilized as he could make them given the conditions. A woman brought him a wooden spoon and Billy understood its purpose. He drank until he couldn't really drink anymore. Moments like these, he cursed his ability to hold his liquor so well, but what he had ingested would have to do for now. He tried to hand it back to the old man, but he shook his head.

"You might need it."

Billy didn't argue. He then took the spoon out of the man's hands.

"I hope you'll be blessed with unconsciousness as soon as I work, but best be safe than sorry."

Billy nodded. Just before he placed the spoon into his mouth he gave as confident a glance as he could to the old man.

"No matter what happens, I appreciate you trying," he breathed with pain. "I want you to know that I'm grateful to you."

The old man had worked on many soldiers in his time. Most of them young, naïve about the ugliness of war, seduced by the glamour of being a hero only to find themselves dying horrifically, most of them scared and crying for their mothers. This man, he knew, had seen his share of battle, had borne his share of wounds, the scars on his body painful tattoos of his own personal skirmishes.

In his career, no one had ever thanked him for trying to save their lives, more like begged him to save them, but they were never grateful for the attempt. Gratitude only came when he was successful, but not this man, this man was different than any one he'd ever met.

"Thank me when I save your life. Your gratitude won't matter if I don't."

"It matters, sir. It matters."

Different, indeed.

Billy then placed the spoon in his mouth, his hands found purchase on either side of the bed he was in and nodded his readiness to the man.

Odd, but the old man was suddenly unsure of himself. He had been scared in the past about operating on any one, questioned his ability to save the life in his hands, but it was usually fleeting and he quickly went about the task with steady and perhaps with even cold detachment, but now, he was worried that he would fail miserably with this man, fail to meet his expectations despite the fact that he had none at all.

Billy detected it and gave him a look of confidence that couldn't be misinterpreted.

And the old man plunged his scalpel into the first wound, the one at the shoulder.

Billy was restrained at first. You could see the discomfort in the stretched features of his face, his eyes clenched so tight, but without tears. Soft groaning filtered through the gritted teeth clamping down onto the wooden spoon. He exerted all of his strength into his arms and pulled at the frame of the bed, as much to keep his body as subdued against the pain as he could to help the old man, as it was to alleviate it for as much as he could for himself.

He dug into the wound and felt himself tunnel into the concentration he needed to help this young man survive. He felt and extracted the first bullet, the easiest of them in his estimation. He took another bottle of liquor and poured it liberally into the wound. Billy stiffened, but relaxed just as quickly. He nodded to the old man, even managing a small smile as if to say, one down, four more to go.

The man then quickly moved on to two other wounds with bullets that he had assessed were going to be the easiest to remove. One was in the arm, the other in the leg. Billy barely flinched when they were extracted. Three down, two to go, two of the worst ones, the two that could kill him.

The man took in a deep breath.

Billy took out the spoon from his mouth and breathed tiredly.

"Take a rest. You've earned it."

"And you haven't?" The man joked. "No, the last two, they are –"

"The trickier ones…life and death, yeh?" Billy surmised as he took another swig of liquor.

"Yeh, exactly. One is in your abdomen, the other, a little higher up. What I don't know is what I expect to find digging around in there, how much soft tissue damage there is and if I can –"

"Do anything about it."

The old man was continuing to be impressed at how knowledgeable this young man was.

"What's your name, son?"

"Billy…"

"Well, Billy, I gather from your expertise, you've been on this ride before."

"Too many times, I'm afraid and believe it or not under worse conditions. Least you're here," Billy said truthfully.

The man was almost humbled by the credit.

"What's your name, mate?"

"Samuel."

Billy smiled and nodded.

"Meaning God's heart or requested by God. Guess I'm in good hands then, yeh?"

The man smiled in surprise at the knowledge Billy possessed, but it fell a little.

"I hope so."

"Well, either way it goes, I figure I've got a bit of an edge, right?" Billy said with a smile but he then stiffened with pain. "Guess break is over…bloody hell."

The man watched as Billy reached for the spoon, but before he placed it into his mouth, he said, "No matter what, right?"

"Right."

Billy placed the spoon back into his mouth and clenched again in pain.

The man took in a deep breath and began cutting.

This time, Billy could no longer hold back the pain ravaging his body. A part of it was just being too weak to fend off any more pain after exerting all of his willpower into the previous "operations", the other was that they were entering more dangerous territory, pain receptors much more sensitive. Billy kept his eyes closed, sometimes from weariness, other times clenched in so much pain he didn't think he could squeeze them any tighter.

The spoon though serving its purpose earlier, was now becoming useless to him, no longer a relief, just something preventing him from biting his tongue off. The pain radiating through his body now was hot, burning and the only urge he felt to relieve it was to scream, to yell, maybe to even cry so he spit the spoon out and kept breathing through every cut, every investigatory probe into his abdomen then when it became too much he glanced over to the old man and he nodded.

"Go head, son."

Billy wailed, moaned and grunted, uttering words like "Mother Mary", "son of a bitch", and "bollocks". Remarkably, spitting each word provided a moment's release from the pain.

His body wanted to writhe and thrash, but Billy knew even through the pain that he couldn't do that, would make Samuel's job that much harder and would make things that much worse for him so he grappled the sides of the bedframe tighter and straightened ever so slightly, trying to find a focal point of resistance that would allow him release and still give Samuel as steady a surface to work through as he could.

His vision blurred with the tears he couldn't hold back anymore and he thought his hands would break under the pressure he was exerting. He mentally begged for blissful unconsciousness and just when he had convinced himself that he wasn't good enough to deserve such respite, he felt his body relax, his vision tunnel into darkness and let go willingly.

Samuel noticed and gazed skyward.

"Thank you, God."

**ChaosChaosChaos**

Michael watched Rick and was worried about him because he had seen that look before, on himself.

Hopelessness, anger, despair, all rolled into a vacuous stare, along with red-rimmed swollen eyes from the hours, days, sometimes weeks' worth of crying, crying that Michael never did openly, but could never hide because it was drawn on his eyes. Rick, however, held no such embarrassment or insecurity issues, no such fear of revealing weaknesses such as shedding tears, for someone he had helplessly watched die.

Michael recognized the symptoms but he had no cure for the condition other than time and sometimes time only deepened the grief because for them, for CIA operatives, particularly the ODS, the passage of time only rubbed painful sand and salt into the wounds of failing to save one of their own. They were not men who let their men be left behind and yet they had once before and the "creation" that resulted was an embittered, angry and vengeful shell of an operative.

This time, they were leaving a dead body behind but they had also thought that before and had been wrong.

Rick looked over at Michael, his glare, mournful.

"I'm going back."

"Rick –"

"Don't bother. I'm not going to leave Billy behind –"

"Rick, he's –"

"No, he's not," Rick insisted, but he wasn't sure he felt the conviction behind the declaration.

"You saw –"

"What I saw was a man going down to the ground. I didn't hear his breath stop. I didn't search for a pulse that wasn't there. I just ran."

"We all did," Michael admitted, believing the blame sat squarely on his shoulders alone.

"He's not dead until I know for sure he's dead. And if that…" Rick took in a tear-choked breath. "Then it's his body I'm bringing back."

Michael heard his words and didn't question the conviction he heard in them.

"You can go back home. I'll understand, but you have to know that I can't. I can't leave him behind."

Rick's voice finally broke.

"I'll break every protocol I have to, to get Billy back."

Michael patted him on the shoulder.

"You already know that we aren't leaving. We've gone through this before. I left Carson behind and he was in prison for three years. I won't do that again. I won't do that to Billy."

"We both won't," Casey finally chimed in.

A man of few words, his emotions always tucked neatly away, Casey was feeling as close to frightened as he has ever experienced. Losing Carson had nearly broken his will, made him question whether he was truly good at his job and for a man with an admitted God-complex, that was a seminal admission. When he thought he would quit, he, instead, decided to work his frustration, his rage inward and had vowed that he would never let what had happened, happen again.

Yet it did happen again. And Casey, once again, was at both a personal and professional crossroads. This time, though, there was no hesitation, no ruminating on what had failed, what he had done wrong.

There was no time and no luxury for it. Billy wasn't Carson. Billy was better. It wasn't to say that Carson wasn't a good man, but even at his performance best, Carson didn't have his full heart into the work. He was closer to Corwin than any of them. He was ready to cash in his experience by the time he met his "end" in North Africa.

Billy, Billy though he was the "new guy" at the time of Carson's "death", decommissioned from the British Secret Service and who had every reason to treat his induction into the CIA as just a cast off job, a job that he had no choice but to accept if he had wanted to still do the spy craft at all, was dedicated to the work. He had every reason to be bitter and jaded, but instead, invested his clearly advantageous international experience to the ODS whole-heartedly. He had never pulled anything back, had immersed himself into the many roles he had played with the fervor that communicated complete commitment.

Casey wasn't an easy sell under any circumstances, but Billy had proven himself to him as a true operative who possessed not a whiff of self-interest.

He owed him the same back and would be happy for the payback he would inflict getting him back.

**ChaosChaosChaos**

Billy awakened admittedly surprised that he was still alive. His body ached and he had noticed that he was bandaged where he had been wounded.

"Glad you're awake. I was getting worried that maybe I had actually killed you after all," Samuel said with a smile. "Try not to move. I've patched you up as best as I could, but you really need stitches."

"Long as I don't spring a leak then, I should be just fine," Billy joked weakly.

Samuel smiled in return.

"Do you want some water?"

"Yes, if you would," Billy said, his throat sore, likely from the screaming.

Samuel poured the water into Billy's mouth, not wanting him to move even towards the water. A few sips were all Billy could intake, but the coolness was a relief.

"You're a lucky man."

"Funny, I feel far from lucky," Billy said, his eyes opening and closing languidly.

"The other bullets you took, the ones I thought would be your undoing, must have impacted at just the right angle. They hadn't penetrated too deeply. Not exactly grazes, but minimal damage nonetheless."

"Guess running from assassins can work to your advantage after all."

"I'd say it did. There's still a risk of infection, especially out here so you're not out of the woods yet, no pun intended."

Billy smiled, trying to hide twinges of pain he was feeling.

"Well, then it's a good thing I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. Couldn't even if I wanted to really."

Samuel couldn't help his admiration.

"Why were you out here?"

Billy took in a tired breath, "While I'm grateful for your help –"

"I understand. You were on a mission here. Arms smugglers my guess. They have been infiltrating further into the remote villages. I'm doing research on local indigenous tribes here and have been hearing about them taking over villages to hide their operations. I'm worried that they might come here next."

Billy listened with interest. Even though he was injured, he was still on assignment and would gather intelligence even after being shot five times and recovering from a makeshift bed in a tribal village.

"I can't either confirm or deny."

"Again, I understand. Top secret."

Billy then suddenly realized that he had to contact Michael, Casey and Rick. He understood that he had been preoccupied with being in pain and unconscious, but they had watched him get shot, might even believe him dead. After what they went through with Carson, he knew that he couldn't leave them not knowing.

"How are you communicating with the outside world from here?" Billy asked, slipping back into his spy craft mode.

"Satellite phone."

"I need to contact my mates so they know I'm here. The way I left them, they might believe I'm dead," Billy paused to stave off dizziness. "They…we lost someone assuming that and I can't have them believing…"

Samuel watched Billy's expression change to a concern that went beyond just doing a job.

"Say no more, son. I'll get it for you after I'm done. I need to make my rounds, but you're safe. You're staying in a family home. One of their children might come around curious though."

"It's all right. Likely they'll get bored from watching a grown man sleep."

"It's what you need for now."

"Thank you for helping me," Billy said before he fell back asleep.

Samuel was cautiously optimistic about his recovery then set off to go back to his work.

**ChaosChaosChaos**

For the past 3 days, Rick hadn't eaten or had barely taken a bite here and there. Not even a cross continental call from Adele had buoyed his spirits or had encouraged him to eat regularly. Rick's sleep had been plagued with nightmares that had finally made him decide to prevent sleep if he could help it.

Once again, Michael was worried about how this was affecting Rick. He was becoming obsessed.

They couldn't go back to the compound because their covers had been blown. Any entry that way would surely mean getting killed. Intel had told them that Billy hadn't been captured nor had they gloated about killing an agent. It kept hope alive, however marginal it was. The only problem was if there was no body or no Billy where did that leave them?

That same hope of finding Billy dwindled rapidly as did Rick's resolve and his health.

"We need to figure out the coordinates of where we left Billy. We can backtrack from there," Rick suggested, a distinct rasp had resided in his throat.

"And how do you suggest we do that?" Casey, ever the optimist, asked.

"I need maps…I…"

Michael felt Rick's frustration.

"Look, we need to get out of here and regroup. You need to get some rest and something to eat."

"I'm FINE!" Rick insisted angrily, teetering on his shaky legs. "I'm NOT leaving here. I know that if we walk away now, we won't be back and Billy, we just can't leave him like…"

"Like we left Carson," Michael finished.

Rick realized what he had said and felt immediate regret.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean…"

"It's okay, kid. Not a day goes by that I don't keep rehashing what we could have done, should have done or remember what leaving Carson behind did to him. I want to find Billy as much as you do, but we need to think clearly. **You** need to think clearly and you're not. I don't need to have a God complex to see that you're burning up with fever and from the sound of your cough you've probably got pneumonia. Being out in that forest probably started the process, but by not eating or sleeping you just accelerated it. Now, this is the plan, you're going to the hospital and Casey and I are going to find Billy."

Rick shook his head slowly, but as he tried to protest, all that came out was a wet rasp and wheeze. He tried to get up from his chair, but just collapsed into Michael's arms.

"Call EMS," Michael lightly commanded to Casey even though he was already dialing before the words left Michael's mouth.

**ChaosChaosChaos**

Billy woke up feeling a presence in the room with him. Even compromised as he was, he had finely tuned instincts that were always in play. There was no sense of danger so he opened his eyes to find a young boy staring at him. One of the children of the family, he surmised. He gave the boy a smile to ease any anxiety.

"Don't be afraid there, lad. What's your name?"

The boy walked up to Billy shyly.

"I'm Hector."

"Good to meet you, Hector," Billy said, feeling feverish and tired. "I'm Billy."

"Are you one of those men hurting people in the villages?" He asked, the scared little boy coming out.

Billy was struck speechless for a moment. It saddened him to see someone so young touched by such evil. Hector should grow up without fear and be allowed to be a child unscarred by violence.

"I promise you that I'm not one of those men. I also promise you that we'll catch them so that they never hurt anyone ever again, no harm will ever come to you or your family."

Hector smiled at Billy's firm assurances and despite being ill, the belief was there and even a young boy like Hector felt that belief, but then his expression changed to concern.

"But they hurt you too."

Billy never ceased to be amazed by a child's instincts and always respected them.

"Just a wee bit of recklessness. I'm going to be fine."

The boy's smile didn't return.

"How are you going to stop them when you're hurt?"

"I have good friends who are coming for me. They will bring others to help. Don't worry."

Hector then smiled a little and Billy had an idea.

"You know, I could really use your help until they get here. Like you said, I'm on the mend here."

"What can I do?" Hector said as his face lit up with the idea of assisting him.

Billy smiled.

"I want you to watch out for things for me. If you see anything that doesn't look right to you, you come and tell me, all right?"

"What kind of things?"

"You know the village the best, Hector. Like if strangers you don't know come in or if any of your friends or the other families start acting strange, you know, things like that. You're a secret agent now. I trust you. Trust is the most valued between agents like you and me, yeh?"

Hector smiled widely, enjoying the idea that he could help, but even more that he could be an agent.

"I'm an agent?" Hector beamed with pride.

Billy watched the fear melt away from Hector's face and it gave him joy.

"That you are, lad."

Billy began feeling a growing ache in his midsection. As it got worse, he found himself curling into himself. He didn't want to startle Hector, but he couldn't hold back a groan.

"Are you okay?" Hector asked, worried.

Billy's breathing quickened and the pain felt like it was spreading throughout his body.

"I need you to get Samuel for me, all right?" Billy clenched as the pain worsened.

Hector then got scared, frozen in place.

Billy understood and forced himself to think clearly through his discomfort.

"Hector, it's okay, all right? I'm just not feeling too well and I need Samuel."

"You're not going to die like my father did, are you?"

Billy's sympathies went out to the boy who had suffered so much loss. He tried to calm himself down further so that Hector would as well.

"No, no, lad, I promise you, I'll be all right, but I need Samuel's help to get better all right?"

Hector nodded.

"It's all right to be afraid. The bravest men are afraid, it's why they are brave because they know they are afraid and yet overcome it. Okay, Hector?"

The boy nodded.

Hector's fear eased with Billy's words of confidence and he ran out of the house to get Samuel.

Billy groaned again and panted quickly. He closed his eyes and hoped that Samuel had something to help him.

**ChaosChaosChaos**

Billy woke up, groggy from poor quality sleep, his whole body shivering with cold yet he was slick with a sheen of sweat from his fever. He turned his head and through filmy vision, he saw Hector and standing beside him was Samuel. He licked his lips and smiled.

"Fine…work there, Hector…A stellar agent you are indeed," Billy gasped out, bringing out a smile on Hector's initially frightened face.

"I don't think I have to tell you what's happened," Samuel said, his expression serious.

"Infection…Inevitable, I expect," Billy said with acceptance and experience.

He felt tired, drained of strength.

"I have some antibiotics in pill form, but without knowing what kind of infection you have, I can't promise -"

"That they'll work," Billy said and nodded. "Do you have that satellite phone?"

"Yeh, I do."

"Good. I'm going to have to contact my mates. They have to know I'm still alive…while I'm still alive," Billy joked, moaning.

"Of course." Samuel said, looking worried. "I wish I could do more for you."

"You've done quite a bit for me, both you and Hector," Billy said as he threw a smile towards Hector, eliciting a smile in return. "I grateful to you for everything."

Samuel was moved by Billy's appreciation and worried about his condition. He knew that Billy needed real medical attention, not the makeshift situation he had.

Infection was one of the primary things that killed the people there. That and arms smugglers. He had to hope that neither would kill Billy.

**ChaosChaosChaos**

Michael and Casey watched as the doctors in the emergency room examined Rick.

Worry was etched on their faces even Casey's granite features revealed signs of concern.

Rick had collapsed into Michael's arms, breathing with difficulty. It seemed like pneumonia had set in and the doctors were trying to confirm it while also making Rick as comfortable as possible.

Michael's phone then began to ring. He stepped away to answer it.

"Dorset," he said and as he listened, his face went from shock to relief. "Thanks, Fay. That's great news."

Casey joined him. He saw the faint smile on Michael's face and found the conclusion easy to come to.

"Billy's alive," Michael said knowing he didn't need to preface for Casey.

"Of course he is. Where?" Casey asked cutting to the chase.

"He got help by a researcher in a nearby village and called in by satellite phone. Fay has the coordinates," Michael's expression then turned to concern.

"What is it?"

"Billy said he's okay, but Fay could tell something was wrong."

"He was shot at least four times. Even if he survived field surgery, under the best of conditions it's still the jungle, ripe with opportunities for infection. If he's already compromised, we don't have much time to get to him," Casey said with a kind of disappointed, if practical, authority in his voice, hating that he had such knowledge.

Michael looked over to Rick, an ache in his chest at the idea of leaving him behind. It was a leader's curse that was the hardest to bear even for a paranoid bastard like him.

Casey saw his indecision and realized that he would have to make the hard choice.

"Michael, Rick is in good hands in a hospital with doctors who can give him the best care. We can't do anything for him but wait and I know that neither one of us can stand by and leave Billy behind facing infection and possible capture by arms dealers. Rick wouldn't want that either. Remember, he sacrificed his own health so that we wouldn't leave Billy behind. The choice is a no brainier."

Michael appreciated his team. They looked out for each other so that when he lost objectivity, one of them would bring him back to the important perspective he needed. Casey was doing that now.

"You're right. Let's get Billy."

**ChaosChaosChaos**

Billy stirred with discomfort, unable to shed the heat ravaging his body. It was clear to him that infection was well underway inside of him. He continued to take the antibiotics that Samuel had given him in the hopes that it would keep the infection even a little under control. He had never felt so weak.

Hector watched over him and the worried nature of the company wasn't lost on Billy.

"Hector, you don't have to stay with me. I'll be all right."

Hector's face trembled then collapsed into tears.

"Don't be like my father," he blurted out.

The request caught Billy by surprise. He wasn't expecting it.

"I could never measure up to your father, lad -"

"No, no," Hector said, his anxiety increasing. "He stood up to the bad men and they killed him."

Billy took in then let out a long breath. The poor boy had watched his father getting killed standing up to men he didn't have a chance of defeating, likely protecting his son, his family. He admired his bravery, but his heart went out to young Hector.

"I'm so sorry, Hector. I'm sure he just wanted to protect you and your family. He was a brave man."

"Brave men die. He died and left us. Who's going to protect us now? I don't want you to die, like he did, Billy." Hector begged.

Billy was moved by Hector's pleas. His voice was wracked with tears. It was the sound of a desperate young boy who had bonded with Billy as a father figure and who was afraid as any child would be about losing that figure after already losing his real father.

"Your father didn't want to die. He didn't want to leave you. He loved you and had to make sure you wouldn't be harmed. It's what a father does."

Billy felt the exhaustion deepening into his body, but he couldn't lose consciousness not yet, not until he helped Hector understand.

"Good, then you don't have to die too. You're not my father."

Billy was touched by Hector's caring attempts to save him as only a young boy could rationalize wanting to spare him any more pain let alone to spare him dying.

"I'm not planning to die, Hector, but protecing you and your village is the right thing to do. Your father didn't die for nothing. I know a part of you thinks so and I'd give anything for you to have not lost him, but he was the best kind of man, someone who believed that evil must be stood up to. He did it for love and there is no greater sacrifice. I would consider it an honor to live up to your father's sacrifice by protecting you and this village."

Hector listened feeling both upset at the idea of losing someone who had reminded him of his father in both the best and awful of ways and yet also felt selfishly relieved that Billy would stay with him because he was frightened.

"I'm scared for you. The bad men, they are too strong. You can't win."

"I've called my mates and they are on their way to help us. I won't be alone in the fight. I believe we can win and I need **you** to believe that too."

"And if you die like my father?"

"I won't."

"You don't lie that well."

Billy had never been told that he was a bad liar. Lying was his stock and trade and he had applied it effectively on many missions, deceiving the most deceptive and intelligent of people, assets and enemies alike yet this innocent young boy had challenged him on his veracity. He was impressed at Hector's perceptions, ironically though, he truly believed that once Michael, Rick and Casey got to him, everything would be fine.

"I am not lying to you, lad. I believe everything will be all right. Trust, it's the best weapon an agent has. I'm asking you to trust me. Can you do that?"

Hector looked at Billy, wiping his tears, he saw the conviction on his face and wanted to believe him.

"Okay, Billy," he said.

"Good, now can you get Samuel for me?"

Hector nodded his head and left to retrieve him.

Billy closed his eyes in extreme fatigue. Dizziness was threatening to become unconsciousness and he couldn't let that happen. There was relief in knowing that Michael, Casey and Rick were heading to his location. There was a part of him that wanted to just let go, to rest and leave the responsibility to them, but he knew it wasn't in his make up to do that wherever he had the control to prevent incompacitation from happening.

He had noticed something strained in Fay's voice that made his instincts flare into suspicion, that there was something she wasn't telling him. He'd have to query the boys when they got to him.

In the meantime, he'd rest and keep on taking the antibiotics.

His heart ached for Hector's loss and he not only worried about his frame of mind in the present, but if anything worse happened, how it would scar the young boy's perspective for life. He had heard of young boys becoming indoctrinated into the arms smuggling world because the seduction of power over helplessness becomes so appealing. Billy was resolved to prevent Hector from becoming another victim, another recruited foot soldier for the arms trade.

His thoughts were then interrupted by Hector running into the room, if possible, even more scared than when he had left.

"Hector? What is it? What's wrong?" Billy asked already suspecting what it was.

"The bad men, they have Samuel!"

**TBC. Thanks for reading.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A Deal with God**

**Part Two**:

Michael and Casey used the coordinates that Fay had extracted from the satellite phone. When compared to where they had left Billy to die or where they had left him for dead - neither scenario was something Michael liked to think about no matter how practical the command decision was at the time - he wasn't far. This information gave Michael both solace and guilt because yes, Billy was alive and that was a relief and should be the only important thing, but he just couldn't stop second-guessing on whether he should have just stayed and had never left Billy behind in the first place.

Command decisions. Michael couldn't shirk from the responsibility of both the satisfaction of a mission well done, no lives lost or injured, or from a mission gone completely and horrifically wrong. He was their leader and every choice he made affected them all and that meant that any mistakes that happened were his and his alone.

So, as he and Casey trudged through the jungle with a newfound purpose as well as a plan for Billy's rescue, he tried to push back the what-might-have-happened-if-he-had-turned-back and focused on the mission at hand of extracting Billy. Now in his mind were thoughts of Rick and how the botched mission had driven the young operative almost to madness and to an uncertain health crisis.

Command decisions. His and his alone to make and to live with even with a team who would support any decision he made. It was the role he was meant to play and for every time he doubted it, he would look as his teammates, his friends who depended on him and he would do his best to make every mission one less that found one of them severely injured, one less he had to relive as a failure.

"How much farther?

"We should be coming up on it –" Casey started.

"Wait, wait," Michael said in a hushed whisper as he spotted something up ahead.

Casey looked beyond Michael and spotted what he was seeing.

Two armed men talking to an older man.

"That's going to complicate our extraction," Casey said with his usual aplomb and understatement.

Michael nodded, his forehead creased in worry.

"It doesn't look very friendly. We're going to have to find another way in. I just hope that if Billy is in that village, he stays put because once that guy finds out –"

"That there's a CIA agent there, Billy's as good as dead," Casey finished.

**ChaosChaosChaos**

Billy tried to rise from the bed, concentrating to keep his groans suppressed as much as possible so as to not give himself and, more importantly, Hector away.

"No, no, lay back, you're hurting yourself more," Hector pleaded.

"Hector, you and Samuel are in danger with me here. I have to draw those men away, keep them concentrated on me."

Billy felt his wounds reopen as he moved and the blood soaked through his makeshift bandages.

"Get my gun there," Billy asked, clenching in pain.

"Please don't leave. You'll die," Hector pleaded even more, his voice breaking.

Billy grasped his shoulders, pain, fever from infection etched across his face.

"Listen to me, lad. When my mates get here, you tell them to protect you and Samuel, all right? Tell them not to come for me."

"But –"

"A good agent follows orders when it comes to saving other people's lives," Billy said, inwardly laughing at the absurdity of the statement since following orders was never a strength of his. "You, Samuel, the village, must come first."

"What about you?" He asked plaintively.

"Sometimes, a good agent must also make difficult decisions when there is no other choice," he said, a truthful statement this time. "But I want you to know that this decision is an easy one to make for me. Now, get me my gun."

"Let me go with you then. I couldn't help my father."

Hector gave him such a doleful expression that it was difficult for Billy to keep objective, but he knew he was doing the right thing. He knew that those smugglers would search the village and they couldn't find him there because if they did, they would make the villagers, Samuel and Hector pay. He couldn't let that happen.

"Hector, you're a fine young man and I guarantee your father was proud of you as I know he still is, but I also know that he wouldn't want you to risk your life, not for this, not for me. He wanted you to live and I consider it an obligation to him to make sure that you do. I need you to let me do that for him, for you. Will you trust me?"

Hector saw the determination on Billy's face, the strength there despite the pain, despite the infection and also he heard Billy's heartfelt words and took them to heart. Billy was making him see that his father hadn't died for nothing.

He nodded his head, reached for the gun and handed it to him.

"Thank you, son. I promise you no harm will come to you. Me and my mates will make sure of it."

Billy checked the clip and it was half full. He had one other full one in his jacket pocket.

"Give me my jacket there if you would."

Hector complied, his stoic silence communicating everything. Billy put on his jacket. He grimaced with every move he made. He then checked for the clip and found it.

Billy wavered from the exertion and Hector worried.

"All right, now I want you to leave here and stay close to your family."

"What about Samuel?"

"He knows what needs to be done."

Hector nodded and headed towards the door.

"Be careful, Billy."

"Always, lad, always," Billy said as he winked.

It brought a quick smile to Hector's face then he left.

Billy leaned against a table, grunting, letting all the suppressed pain release as he had held it back for Hector's benefit. He took in some breaths, cocked his gun and started towards the door himself.

"Right. Once more unto the breach."

**ChaosChaosChaos**

Michael and Casey watched the exchange and thought through their next moves. Suddenly, they heard shots being fired. They saw the two men run off, ignoring the older man. They then gave each other knowing glances and knew what the other was thinking.

"Billy," they chorused.

"You go after Billy. I'll join up with you. I have to talk to –"

Casey didn't wait for Michael to finish before he was off and running after them. He had to smile because he knew that Casey wouldn't need any back up from him and a part of him felt sorry for the smugglers. It would be an unfair match.

He ran up to the older man and stopped him.

Samuel saw him coming and had judged without asking that Michael was a friend of Billy's.

"I'm Michael Dorset, I'm with –"

"Billy. I'm Samuel. No need to explain. Are you alone?" He asked concerned that he was the only man to come and help.

"No, no, another operative is running over to help Billy."

"You mean those shots were Billy? And that man running…that was…"

Michael suppressed a laugh then nodded.

"We have unorthodox methods," Michael explained though feebly, he knew, not to mention it was a gross understatement of the "disruptive" in their title.

"I see that now," Samuel said, marveling at the monumental risks this group of men took.

Hector then ran up to the two men.

"Samuel! We have to help Billy! He ran off to make the bad men chase him and away from us! I couldn't stop him!"

Michael smiled.

"It's okay, kid. Nothing you could have done would have stopped him."

"Are you one of his friends?"

"Yeh, we're here to help him."

"He told me you would come. He told me to tell you to not go after him, to protect us, but you have to help him. He's hurt."

Samuel nodded in agreement.

"He was shot five times. I don't know how he survived, but I'm more worried about the infection that has set in."

Michael could only smile slyly and shake his head.

"Billy's a survivor and don't worry we won't leave him."

"He was looking very bad. He was in a lot of pain though he was trying to hide it from me. He didn't want to scare me. He couldn't have gotten far that way," Hector said.

Michael took in the information.

"Were there more than the two men you were talking to?"

"No, there are usually just small patrols. They know that no one here has the ability to fight them. As long as we don't interfere or they don't need something from us, they leave us alone."

"Good. It will make things easier."

"They have big guns, how can you and your friend help Billy with just the two of you?" Hector asked, doubtful.

"My friend, well, he has special skills. Believe me, kid, he's all the weapon we need. I'm more worried about Billy. When he's well, he's just as difficult to take down, but compromised, he'll be an easy target."

"Why would he risk himself to help us? No one else has," Hector asked sadly.

Michael could only smile.

"What's your name?"

"Hector."

"Well, Hector, Billy's special in a way that makes him a better man than most, better than any of us who do this work. He could never walk away from someone who needed help. Even if he was hurt, he'd find a way to help them, to save them."

"I'm scared for him," Hector said.

"So am I, but I promise you this, I won't let anything happen to him."

Hector nodded his head.

"Thank you both for helping him, now stay out of sight. I promise you we'll be back," Michael said as he ran off into the jungle to help Casey.

**ChaosChaosChaos**

Billy hobbled through the trees, needing to lean against them to regain a breath or to gain control over the pain, which was now rattling through his muscles and nerves, making it more difficult to take each step. He had to worry more about maintaining his balance and doing that just slowed him down, making it that much easier for the smugglers to catch up to him. He had to keep the pursuit up, drive them further and further away from the village as the last vestiges of his strength oozed away from him.

He didn't know what was draining him faster, blood loss or dehydration from fever. If he wasn't so determined to keep moving, he might have stopped to think about which one was killing him.

He heard the footsteps rapidly catching up. No other sounds. The smugglers were smart. They weren't going to give themselves away other than the sounds of their pursuit. Sadly for Billy, he was giving them a blood trail. Still, undaunted, he kept moving, doing his best to keep his own sounds to a minimum. It was creeping closer to nearly impossible.

He spotted a drop off and took that route hoping that he could get a better idea of their position by watching their approach from a lower vantage point.

He worked his way there, his legs dragging with each step. He was running on fumes now. It would only be a matter of time before he hit empty. He had to make the most of being conscious, if barely. He crouched down only to send piercing agony up his spine as he mangled his wounds, especially the one in his abdomen.

He cleared the shattering flash of lightening that came into his field of vision with the shock of pain and waited. He saw one man coming into view. He had an automatic weapon slung round his body.

He then spotted a familiar body type and movement coming from behind the gunman.

Casey.

Relief seeped into his body, but he couldn't acquiesce to unconsciousness just yet. He watched the human weapon creep up behind the gunman and take him out as swiftly as swatting a fly. It made Billy smile.

He used everything he had left in him to straighten up from his position, the act nearly causing him to curl up in pain again, and walked towards Casey. Casey spotted him and walked in Billy's direction to meet him halfway. He didn't like how Billy looked so the sooner he got him out of the germ-infested jungle, the better in his mind.

They inched closer and Billy was losing all sense of time. It felt like it was taking forever to reach Casey.

Sweat was getting into his eyes and he didn't have the strength to wipe it away, still, despite that, he was just sharp enough to spot the threat coming at Casey from behind him.

The other smuggler. And he had his weapon readily poised.

With every thing he had left, Billy swung his gun in front of him and aimed.

"GET DOWN, CASEY!" He yelled.

Casey knew not to hesitate, trusting Billy, and dropped to the ground.

The gunman heard Billy's yell, pulled his weapon up and into the grips of his hands.

Billy tried to steady his hold on his gun as well as anchor his consciousness. He focused on the target. It felt too slow and Billy worried his injuries were going make him fail his friends. The thought of failure pumped that much more needed adrenaline into his body and he pressed the trigger.

Simultaneous shots cracked the air.

The gunman went down.

Casey then saw Billy crumple first to his knees then to the ground, dropping his gun. He frantically ran over to him.

Michael heard the shots as he closed in on his friends and hurried his pace that much more to get to their locations, his emotional control lost to the panic that was settling into his body.

He found Casey hovering over Billy, applying pressure to a freshly bleeding wound in Billy's mid-torso. He looked up at Michael, his expression as close to anguish as Michael had ever seen him.

It told him everything. He took out his radio and opened a channel.

"OPERATIVE DOWN! OPERATIVE DOWN! I need a chopper RIGHT NOW!"

Casey looked back down at Billy, his face barely keeping his mask of control.

"You idiot. What did you do that for?"

Billy smiled, his breathing ragged and whimpering, his body trembling with pain.

"Good…to…see you too, mate…"

He stiffened with pain then lost consciousness.

**ChaosChaosChaos**

Air rescue first lifted Billy up using a cage stretcher similar to what the Coast Guard uses. Then Casey and Michael were lifted up and in. EMS was waiting in the chopper to stabilize Billy until they got to the hospital.

Casey and Michael could only sit back against the walls of the copter, exhausted both physically and emotionally, and watch EMS work. They stared in shock at all the blood soaking Billy's clothes and a shiver hit Michael.

"He's gonna make it," Casey declared.

"I know," Michael said back, but without the true conviction that Casey had expressed then smiled. "Since when did you become the ODS cheerleader?"

Casey stalled for a second. "Because the one who is is lying in his own blood trying to live."

Michael stiffened at the harsh yet truthful description. He just nodded.

"Also, I refuse to waste energy on worrying when I know that Billy will fight and he'll win. To think any other way…" Casey swallowed, "is just counter productive."

Arriving at the hospital had been a chaotic blur of doctors and nurses rushing around, taking control of Billy's body and the condition of it. Michael and Casey watched stoically until they wheeled Billy away out of their sight and into the operating room.

Billy had looked beyond unconscious, beyond unmoving. Billy looked dead only the blips of the heart monitor were telling them that he was alive. Even so, there were different states of living and not all of them meant Billy was alive in the truest sense of the word, in the truest Billy sense of the word.

The emergency room doctor had told them that Billy had an infection, that his fever was at 103, but that the bullet had to be removed as soon as possible because it was dangerously close to his kidney, leaving it in would only allow the infection to fester and grow. He told them that the chances of survival were grim, but the fact that Billy's vitals were strong and that he had survived as long as he had were all factors in his favor. He then rushed back to yet another trauma that needed his attention.

Michael and Casey were left standing speechless and it dawned on them that two of their own were fighting for their lives, that if neither one made it…it would be the end of the ODS as they knew it.

Since they were helpless to do anything for Billy, they had decided to check on Rick. The prognosis was only marginally better.

Rick was stable. He had been unconscious since they had left to rescue Billy. The doctors had confirmed pneumonia and had tried a couple of antibiotics to help Rick combat it. So far, all they would commit to was that he was stable, nothing more.

The older operatives watched helplessly. They weren't used to not being able to do anything especially Casey. Billy was second only to Casey when it came to a need to act, to do something to aid a mission or a person involved in that mission.

For Billy the missions were personal, he took every mission to heart. It wasn't just about the mechanics, for him, it was also about the intimacy of those involved. Sure, it was a role he played, but it was also more than just a role.

He had never claimed to possess an honest bone in his body, his role with the ODS was all about lying, not just a little lying to get a small aspect of the mission to succeed, but creating a ruse, a fabrication of such complete and utter beauty, crafted so seamlessly that the enemies wouldn't be able to discern the reality from the fantasy that he would forge with his words, his demeanor, his voice, his body. It was performance art to Billy and he did it well.

There was a risk to the playacting, not only to an asset or other innocents, but to Billy as well. Sometimes, he would also become too invested; too devoted to the cause, to the innocent, to one of his teammates that he would render himself a victim as well. He had never regretted every time that he had placed himself in harm's way to either salvage a disintegrating mission or to save someone, but it didn't mean that those closest to him weren't put through the wringer every time he did it.

Michael and Casey had suffered through quite a few moments like the ones they were in now, but not in the numbers they were experiencing them at that moment. It wasn't just Billy. It was Rick too. Both men precariously fighting for life and all the seasoned operatives could do was wait, place their trust in unconscious men and hope the battle they were waging against the pestilence assaulting their immune systems would find them victorious.

Neither one of them were good at it. Waiting. You'd think they'd be used to it, but they never would be when it came to one of their own and in a very important and reassuring way, they hoped that they never would get used to it, to be so numbed by the experience of blood, torn skin, broken bone, infections, fevers, and sometimes on the very rare occasion something even worse that they would just treat the body as if it were a mechanical device, not a human being, not someone they considered a friend, a teammate.

In these moments of complete vulnerability, where dying was as simple as an infection that was impervious to all antibiotics or a weakened heart finally giving up on an operating table, even hardened men made their deals with God.

Michael had done it more times than he could count and he was doing it again, the only difference was that he was doing it for two of his friends, not just one. It seemed too much to ask a leader to endure.

Casey would become more silent the more helpless he felt which to anyone who knew him seemed completely impossible to comprehend. The silence had become too deafening for Michael.

"Are you all right?" He asked.

"Of course, I'm not all right, Michael. I don't like just sitting around doing nothing."

"I know," Michael said. "But I've learned that you just have to trust that your operatives will complete the mission."

Casey looked over at Michael and not only understood the implication; he had appreciated his inclusion in the statement.

"I have to believe that Rick and Billy will do that."

Casey could only nod.

**ChaosChaosChaos**

Billy had emerged from surgery with strong vitals and the doctors had been hopeful.

It had become a wait and see event for Michael and Casey.

And just as suddenly it had become a contest of wills over who would come out of unconsciousness first.

As the days went by, Billy began to show signs of recovery while Rick seemed to be slipping.

Billy was regaining consciousness.

Rick was slipping into a coma.

Billy was off the ventilator.

Rick's infection was spreading, his fever rising.

Billy was awake and talking.

No one was as relieved as Michael and even Casey had to reluctantly admit that he had missed hearing Billy's chatter.

Rick had remained silent. The only sounds were the machines keeping him alive.

The doctors weren't hopeful for his recovery.

They thought Billy was on the road to full recovery.

Michael and Casey were then faced with telling him that Rick was slowly dying and they had no idea how to do it.

"It's about time you woke up," Casey teased.

It gave Billy and Michael, too, a sense of normalcy to hear Casey complain.

"Right. You saw through my ruse. I stayed unconscious purely to inconvenience you."

Billy smiled weakly and Casey just acted indignant, relief well hidden under the surface.

Silence filled the air until Billy broke it with the inevitable question.

"Where's our young Rick, then?"

Michael and Casey paused to find the right words, but Billy's finely tuned instincts picked up on the leaden emotions between them.

"What's happened to him?" He asked; worry creased his forehead.

Michael knew it was his job to tell Billy the truth so he took in a breath.

"Rick is in a coma," he said simply. "He has an infection and pneumonia is setting in."

Billy took in the news barely containing his emotions. He felt the constriction in his throat and his chest tighten, stealing his ability to breathe for a second. He closed his eyes to calm himself.

Michael watched Billy absorb the information and detected the struggle for control.

"He wouldn't believe that you were dead and was determined not to leave you behind," Michael said both with regret in his voice yet with a small proud smile.

Billy nodded.

"Likely he had already been compromised. We'd been in the forest for a long time, the moist air…" Casey tried to explain, trying in his own way to ease the responsibility he knew Billy felt, that they all felt for Rick's condition.

Billy then opened his eyes.

"Clearly the lad doesn't possess the fortitude needed to survive in my mother country where such weather conditions are a way of life," he said with a shaky smile.

Michael recognized Billy's coping mechanism. Humor was his best defense, but just as quickly he also observed him making some mental decisions.

Billy took in the news with a heavy heart. The brush with Carson had imprinted upon Rick that the ODS didn't leave a man behind and because of it, had imperiled his own life in the pursuit of rescuing Billy, dead or alive.

"Seems we have taught our Rick too well, yeh?" Billy said, his voice seemingly taking on a more fatigued tone. "Where is he?"

"In ICU," Michael answered.

"I need to see him," Billy insisted gently.

"You need your rest. You might be in denial about it, but you're not exactly 100% yourself and besides, you can't help him," Casey pointed out practically with a veiled dose of concern for Billy's well being.

"Rubbish. He needs to know that I'm here, that he can come back now."

"He's in a coma. He can't hear you," Casey said imparting cold, impartial logic to the discussion.

"Ah, but you're wrong, mate. I know he can hear us. It's more that he needs to hear something that will give him proper reason to grasp onto the tether of life. He needs to know that he hasn't left me behind...more importantly, he needs to know that we haven't left him behind."

Michael understood.

"I need to see him," Billy reiterated.

The doctors objected to Billy being moved, stated all of the risks to his health if he did and though Billy acknowledged their warnings, he would not be swayed about his decision. Michael watched with mild amusement knowing that nothing the doctors could say would change Billy's mind. So, gingerly, they helped him into a wheelchair, essential IVs remained attached as a nurse transported him to the ICU.

Billy was determined not to show the discomfort he was feeling for fear that it would abort his mission towards Rick. Rick needed him. He came first, his recovery had to come first.

When they got to the ICU and Billy saw all of the intervention surrounding Rick, it sobered and saddened him.

He had been in the situation that Rick found himself in, had been that way as recently as a week ago. He would always remember the pain of feeling a tube down his throat, the pain all over his body from the wounds and the surgery as the medications wore off.

It was all about pain.

Sadly, for him, it was all too familiar. He had treated it as just another day at the office.

Until he saw the faces of his mates as he awoke, anchoring him to reality, making him feel safe again, reminding him of why he did the work, of why he placed himself in harm's away every time he went on a mission.

Yes, doing the work was always pain in potentia, but he had accepted it, wouldn't do any other work and wouldn't avoid the work even if it meant repeating the cycle all over again. The people he helped, most recently, Samuel, Hector, they were worth it. His mates, his partners in the work, they were worth it.

Rick, he was worth it.

Rick needed to feel that it was worth it all too. He had to give that to him because in an off-handed way, he was responsible for what had happened to him.

Michael had told him about how Rick had barely eaten or slept, desperate at finding him. He had gotten sicker, weaker then had collapsed into Michael's arms. Pneumonia finding a vulnerable host to gain a foothold then coma swiftly followed.

Rick was surrendering, believing he had failed, had left Billy alone to die or dead. Billy needed to tell him that he was back, back in the warm embrace of friendship, proud of the men he served with, proud of Rick for giving his all for him.

"I hear that you've been stricken ill, lad. All because of me and while I appreciate your efforts, you needn't be concerned anymore. I'm here. All you need do is open your eyes and see the proof."

Rick remained silent.

"Being stubborn won't get rid of me that easily, mate. I know you can hear me and I know it's hard to resist, letting go, seeking peace from the pain. I've been there myself, but you cannot leave. I won't have it. You see, you need to see that your search was a success, that I haven't left you behind or that we have left you behind. It's not the ODS way, right?"

Billy felt a sharp pain radiate through his chest, so much so, he was finding it hard to breathe. When he followed his hand, which had unconsciously reached for the pain, he saw that this gown was red with blood, his blood.

"Better hurry, lad. I fear I may have underestimated my recovery or have worsened it due to my reckless boyishness. I am prone to such misdeeds, you know. I know you can hear me, Rick. Reach out of your darkness. We are here waiting for you. I am here waiting for you. You have not failed me. Only way you could is to give up."

Billy couldn't hold back the pain anymore and was finding that taking each breath was getting more and more difficult to draw. He tried to reach for the call button next to Rick's hand. His bloodied one stained the sheets and had begun to tremble. Unconsciousness was rapidly tunneling in. His fingers just a touch away from the button, but he went limp, losing consciousness, his head and arm splayed across Rick's body.

Rick's eyes then began to flutter open. He couldn't breathe. He felt the uncomfortable restriction of the tube down his throat, but the shock of that was nothing compared to the bloodied visage of Billy, lying motionless on the side of his bed.

He felt helpless. He couldn't scream; he couldn't reach the call button. He couldn't even wriggle his body to try to tap Billy, shake him to wake him.

The frustration began to build and the need to scream was becoming unbearable until all he had wanted to do was risk damage and pull the tube out so that he could yell for him.

Billy needed him and he couldn't let him down, he couldn't let him die. He moved to reach for the tube, feeling weak and pain rising inside of him.

Then suddenly he jerked awake.

He was confused, wondering where he was. Last he remembered…no wait, maybe dreamed was trying to pull out his ventilator tube from his throat to…BILLY!

He looked over and instead of finding a bloodied Billy, he saw a tired, but grateful face looking at him, felt a comforting hand touch his arm.

"There, now was that so hard? I knew you had it in you," Billy said as he smiled. "Now, relax. You're safe and in good hands."

Rick, ventilator still in his throat, nodded slowly as he closed his eyes and fell back asleep.

Billy then sat back in his wheelchair, his expression pinched with obvious pain.

**ChaosChaosChaos**

The doctors, feeling confident that Rick was able to breathe on his own, removed the ventilator and had expressed guarded hope that he was on the way to recovery, if far from being there yet.

The doctors had restricted the visitation to one person at a time. Michael was first.

"Hey there, kid. How are you feeling?" He asked with a smile.

"Tired."

"It's to be expected."

Rick's face then fell and he closed his eyes as if in pain.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"I had a dream," Rick rasped. "That Billy was here."

Michael looked puzzled at first, but then realized why Rick was acting disappointed. The last thing that he had remembered was that they had left Billy behind.

"That wasn't a dream. Billy's here. He heard you were in trouble and against doctor's orders came in to talk to you. He was sure you could hear him. Clearly he was right," Michael smiled.

Rick's expression was a mix of relief and once again, confusion.

"But how?"

"I'll have him tell you the story."

"Why isn't he here?"

Michael didn't take offense. He knew the bond the both of them had and it made sense that Rick would be expecting to see Billy's face over his own.

"He got hurt pretty badly when we found him, but he's getting better too."

"If he was that injured, why was he…"

"Like I said, he defied doctor's orders."

"Is he going to be okay?" Rick asked worried again.

"Yeh, yeh, he had a setback, but he's going to be fine. I think it's going to be a race between you two on who gets out of the hospital first."

Rick smiled as he drifted off to sleep.

It allowed Michael to let his guard down. Rick didn't need to know that Billy's setback was a lot more serious than he had let on.

_Flashback_

_Billy tried to push back the overwhelming pain in his abdomen, but nothing he exerted was helping. He knew he had to get some help before he passed out. _

_He gripped the wheels of his chair and every turn was excruciating. He knew he had nothing left to resist the pain and wouldn't get far so he settled for getting to Rick's call button._

_When he got there, he took in a few ragged breaths and pressed the button. With whatever strength he had left gone, he dropped the call button in the hopes that help would be on its way soon. _

_He curled into himself in the wheelchair, the pain sharp and stabbed with authority; his high threshold was no match for the agony so all he could do was concentrate on his breathing and wait and maybe hope for unconsciousness. He scoffed at the notion that his luck would be that merciful. _

_A nurse came in and assessed the situation, realizing that it hadn't been Rick who had pressed his call button._

"_I NEED A GURNEY IN HERE!" She yelled then tried to assess Billy. "Sir? Sir? Can you hear me?"_

"_Y…yeh…" Billy swallowed and panted out._

"_Can you tell me exactly where it hurts?" She asked gently and calmly._

"_Stomach…started out as just cramping…" Billy offered haltingly through the agonizing pain, as he knew from experience that she would need every detail he could give her. "G…got worse just now…sharp, stabbing pain."_

"_I have to look to see if there's tenderness where the pain is. Can I open your robe?"_

_Billy nodded and let his arms go lax though it was difficult to do, the impulse so strong to wrap them around the pain it took some will on Billy's part to accomplish it._

_The nurse noticed the swelling and pressed gently. Billy groaned and stiffened with the contact, pain shaking his body._

"_I'm sorry," she apologized._

_Billy shook his head, "No need…I understand…what's wrong?"_

"_I think it's an abdominal abscess," she said. "We have to get you assessed by a doctor and quickly."_

_She ran out of the room to get a doctor and Billy could only grunt and groan._

_Michael and Casey saw the commotion and ran over. They saw Billy's suffering and went over._

"_What happened? What's wrong?" Michael asked as he bent down to check Billy out, his concern trying to veil his rising panic._

_Billy trembled with pain, "D…don't know yet…she's a getting doctor."_

"_I told you this was a bad idea," Casey scolded, his own panic barely contained._

_Billy couldn't help but give him a slight smile._

"_Right, quite an understatement, I believe. I'll never doubt you again."_

"_You should never doubt me," Casey declared softly._

_They were, then, interrupted by the entrance of a gurney and several doctors and nurses who surrounded Billy. Michael and Casey stepped away, helpless once again._

_The doctors and nurses helped Billy onto the gurney, but no matter how careful or considerate, he groaned with tormenting pain. It set Michael and Casey on edge._

_They wheeled Billy away and all they could do was stand and wait yet again._

When Michael left Rick, he went back to Billy's room. He walked in relieved to see Billy awake.

Billy turned and weakly smiled.

"How's Rick?" Billy asked as he breathed heavily.

"Getting better," Michael said. "You on the other hand..."

Billy nodded and took in a tired breath.

"Need to work on my boyish recklessness," he smiled. "Seems to always get me into a wee bit of trouble, aye?"

"Just a bit. Lucky for you, you'll live to be insubordinate another day," Michael teased.

"Aye, something for you to look forward to," Billy teased.

Michael paused then looked at him.

"I'd've done the same thing," he admitted.

"I know, mate. I know," Billy sighed.

Michael's face then fell and his eyes were downcast, guilt on his face.

"Look, Rick never gave up on you. The decision to leave was mine and mine alone. I'm sorry."

Billy saw the weight of responsibility on Michael's face and felt nothing but understanding.

"Michael, you have nothing to be sorry for. I told you all to go. I wanted you to be safe," Billy said with calm acceptance. "I'm not Carson."

Michael looked up and saw no recrimination on Billy's face.

"I've been abandoned before," Billy said tiredly as he blinked slowly. "I know what that feels like. You didn't leave me behind, Michael. You had to think of the others' safety. So was I. Absolve yourself," Billy said.

Michael nodded. Though he was their leader and took full responsibility for any decisions he made on any given mission, it always felt gratifying when he heard that his men understood and accepted the fact that he might have to make painful choices.

Michael had made his share of deals with God to bargain for his men's lives when decisions and plans he had made endangered them.

He could only hope to measure up to their loyalty, which he never took for granted.

**FIN. Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it.**


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